Mercy
by ElizabethBasil
Summary: When a boy with a dark past from District 7 is reaped for the First Quarter Quell, the 25th Hunger Games, he knows that there's no way his secrets will stay secret. What he doesn't know is that there's a long way until a peaceful end. Meanwhile, he also finds trustworthy friends and, possibly, the love of his life.
1. The Home

**Hello! I am Elizabeth Basil. **

**I am so grateful to be able to post this new fanfiction. ****As you already know, The Hunger Games is my current favorite book series. ****Please leave a review and tell me what do you think! I can't wait to hear!**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Today, the matress is at its softest possible. I have already forgotten the light touch of the one I had_ there. _I shouldn't even think about that place. It is nothing. It means nothing. I am nobody and it is better like this. Each day I say this to myself, but I always forget about the repulsion I am supposed to have; I do hate it, but not always. It's been 2000 days since I left that place. This equals with five years and 175 days. This equals with a long time, but I can't say I feel the time passing.

I stand and the sunrise blinds me instantly. I cover my face with my hands and suddenly feel a need to go back to sleep, but I know I can't. The sun would not let me do that.

Alexa is still sleeping. Poor woman, she isn't as lively as she used to be. I guess it's the age.

What days is today? It's the Reaping Day. Hardly, the odds would be in my favor and I'd be chosen. Hardly, that will happen. If I get chosen, they will see me and know me. I needn't that to happen, but I do not have the power to disagree with the world anymore. Anyway, this powerlessness makes everything tastier.

The good part about the Reaping Day is that it's the only day I need not to touch the axe. In these five years, I've come to hate it. Children at age of 7 start learning to use the axe. They, of course, start with axes made of wood. By the age of ten, they start using the metal ones. The unlucky children lose fingers, some lose the whole hands. It's a horrible view, but I've been blessed only to see the bandages-covered left overs of all these hands. Truth be told, I may have chosen to come in District Seven only because it is somehow too unlikely to me. I hate bleedings, I hate seeing blood. And this hatred may have even turned in fear and agony. I can't stand seeing blood anymore. However, Distric Seven doesn't circle around lost body parts at all; it's the District of Lumber. The district, I think, that develops the muscles the most, by cutting lumber, carrying lumber and everything with lumber.

The big event is at noon. There isn't much left.

The suit for the Reaping is standard. Every little piece of the clothing is white or light blue. I leave those clothes on the bed as I leave the house. It is a beautiful small house. This is my home and not what was _there_. Each day, I stare at it because it's inspiring. Well, as inspiring as a building can be. I may be nothing actually, but it feels special, at least for me.

'Are you always doing that?' Alexa asks me as she exits the house. 'I've seen you a lot of times watching the house like this. Do you find it beautiful?' She smiles.

'Don't you also do this? I know it isn't only me, it's also you, who feels that there's something beyond normal here'.

'That's what I call Home. It feels like home and this means that it is the most beautiful place for someone. Jared, are you scared for today?' She gives me a worried look, but I look back at her with a rather relaxed expression on my face. She puts her hand on my arm and holds tight. Alexa's more scared of the Reaping than I am. I understand her. She had already passed the limit age by far when the first Games took place and she had no children which were to have to take part in the Reapings. Her emotions highten because she cares about me. I am happy about that.

'I am not' I finally say. She breaths relieved. I know it isn't good for her to make her worry.

'Good. So what will you do until the Reaping time comes?'

I smile. 'Nothing. Today's the only day I do not have to go in the woods with others to bring new wood in the village. It's like a free day, though I suppose they give us this freedom only to terrorize us with the Reaping. They want us to get mad and crazy and have time to burn our own brains in thinking. Unfortunately for them, it doesn't really work for me'.

'I am happy to hear that, Jared. Fear of something unreal, makes everything unreal'. She then leaves me.

For one moment, I feel the need to ask her to stay more. The air seems thick, cold and hard to breath, and that isn't well. District Seven is surrounded by forests, which releases oxygen and fresh air. We are somehow the Healthiest District. The usual air from here is somehow sweet and it's a pleasure to breath here. But today is different. Today something bad will hapen. There will be something at the Reaping and the whole Panem will be watching. It's the first Quarter Quell after all and they will care even more than usual. They will see every little detail which is so bad for me. If they look too close, they will see me. They will see who I am and they will recognise me. It's always the same fear. But fear wakes you up, right? Life is mostly a dream and those bad things make it be a dream no more and become what we are calling reality.

Afternoon comes faster than I thought it would. The God of Bad things can't wait anymore, I suppose.

Alexa joins me on my way to the center of the village. This place has been especially built to host the Reapings each year. There are already lots of people. Most of them are teens. Some parents do not even want to see the (possible) moment of the Reaping of their own child so they simply let him go alone. I can't imagine what do these kids feel. I feel so happy that Alexa with me, especially today when I have this bad feeling.

She leaves me and stays behind, at the passing limit of the people not in the age limits. I go to the registration. I find one row with only three people. The needle pierces my skin and the pain is usual. It's hurts more than it did the past years. A drop of blood falls on a small paper shee with my name on it. The whole thing is like signing with blood a pact with the devil. Blood is blood. The signature is a signature. The lost one is the lost cause. And the devil is the devil. The Hunger Games are the Devil.

After the registration, they put me in a group with other guys. They're all my age and they all have a clear sadness and madness on their faces. I dislike seeing that. Seeing madness and sadness, somehow, makes me like that too. But I stand it and fight it and I can't care about it. The other registrations go fast. In less than ten minutes, everybody is ready to begin the actual Reaping.

The anthem starts playing.

_He _wrote it. I know because I was next to him when he did that. I guess he never liked the one that was before and somehow I have always agreed with his opinions. But I mustn't think of him. He isn't here. I will never see him again and that will be very good.

Four horrible minutes pass together with the song. When it finally ends, a woman stands on the stage. She is around mid-thirties, blonde, brown-eyed, mediumly tall with a strawberry-gold dress that falls over her body. Her name is Cathy Wescott, as she introduces herself. She gives us a smile. I know it is a fake one by looking in her eyes. She feels sorry for all the people waiting for the thing that can kill or save them. 'Well, well... Welcome to the 25th Hunger Games. May the odds be always in your favor. As you know, this year is also the First Quarter Quell, which makes the Games even more beautiful' she starts. It's read on her face that she doesn't even believe in what she says, that she knows how horrible everything is, that this year everything will be even worse. 'This year the Reaping will be different. This year there will be no rule that says there must be two tributes of different genders. This year the tributes can be male and female, female and female or male or male'. I actually knew that the Capitol will have no good ideas for the Quarter Quell. They have been planning it ever since I was born or even before that. But, at least, this Reaping gives everything a bigger chance not to be reaped. Cathy Wescott moves around the stage as two people bring a big bowl full of blood-stained paper sheets. I know that one of these sheets is with my name, but hopefully it isn't the one that will be take out. She gives the audience a fake smile and gets closer to the bowl. She swallow and clears her throat before she starts speaking again. 'So, let's see who is the first tribute'. Cathy puts her hand in the bowl and moves it around. After some moments, she finally choses a paper sheet, though hesitating. 'Char Nelson'.

Everybody's eyes go to a girl not far from me. I think I know her. I might have seen her before. She is... the girlfriend of that boy that killed himself with an axe a month ago. He put the axe at his neck and didn't hesitate to behead himself. Everything was in front of some of his friends, his family and her. Her cheeks are still wet from crying, but I can't say if she is still crying for Zac Byrne or because of the Reaping. Unfortunately, she is the tribute and nothing and nobody can save her. There has never been a volunteer in District Seven. They are only stories that come from Districts One, Two, Three and rarely Four. They are really strange stories for our District. Char has curly brown hair, wide and beautiful blue eyes, full lips and a pleasant presence. I am actually sorry for her.

'So, Char, how do you feel being a tribute for the First Quarter Quell?' Cathy asks. I see sadness in her eyes; she's as sorry for the poor girl just as I am. 'Tell us!'

'I'd rather be dead' Char answers with bitterness.

'Oh, you're dead out of happiness. That's great!' Cathy tries to repair it so it wouldn't look that bad. Well, it does look bad. And it also looks stupid due to the useless try of repairing the actual truth. 'Now, Char, I am going to ask you to take a seat there and we are going to see who is the second tribute is. Isn't it beautiful?'

'What?' Char asks with widened eyes. 'I've been sentenced to death'. Her voice is accusing Cathy for picking up her name, the Games for existing, everyone else for not being reaped instead of her and the whole world for being so cruel. Much to my surprise, I agree with her: Cathy's guilty of picking wrong names, the Games are the Devil and the shouldn't have ever existed, everyone here is guilty of something though nothing is told and the whole world is indeed cruel. Char's no saint, I am no saint, and no one is a saint. A Peacekeeper takes Char by one arm and drags her to her seat. She doesn't fight and steadies herself on her seat, covering her head with her hands. She can't stand it anymore. She seems not strong enough to carry on her shoulders this unholy fate.

'Let's move on and see who is the second tribute'. Cathy, hesitating even more than the first time, picks up a name. She swallows and says it aloud, though I do not hear it at first. 'Jared Cline'. That's my name. That's my unfortunate name. I leave my place and walk towards the stage. It would be pointless to fake sadness or fury. I expected this ever since I first breathed the air today. 'Fast, fast, boy' Cathy continues.

I mutter something without a meaning, but she doesn't notice.

'I introduce you the District Seven tributes for the First Quarter Quell: Char Nelson and Jared. Happy Hunger Games and may the odds always be in your favort'. Together with these words, the ceremony of the Reaping ends. They take us inside the Town Hall, or Building of All Odds as we call it. It's the most unlucky place of the village and I shouldn't be here.

They leave me in a room. Alexa enters it after two minutes. She is crying. I caress her ash hair and hug her. I know she is even more hurt than me, but I can do nothing. Her tears make me cry too, but I at least must not show sadness to her. I want her last alive view of me to be one with me smiling. It would be perfect, I think.

'I somehow felt it, Jared' she says.

'Me too. Alexa, I must tell you. My name is actually John' I reply and show her the mark I have on the back of my hand. It's the mark of the devils that rule this wicked planet.

'I always knew that. You are a beautiful boy and a strong man. You will be okay. I knew from the beginning you weren't for this place and I couldn't even hope for you to stay over five years with me. For all these years, each day, I was so grateful that you were still with me. I may be an old lady, but I know how to feel, how to be human and how to live. You are a great man and you will do good'.

'Thank you' I say and smile.

She shivers and I give her a seat to sit. She breathes once and touches my cheek with her hand. Her tears keep falling, but she also smiles. 'I thank you'. She embraces me and kisses my forehead. I do not think she is worried and sad anymore. She is proud. Alexa knew all this time that the was always a chance for me to be reaped and she may have prepared herself. Anyway, she isn't proud because I was reaped; she is proud of the difference between what I am now and what I was five years ago. The farewell hurts my heart much. I wish I can say more to her, but I can only thank her again before she is taken away. The five minutes left for farewells are long gone. After that, the Peacekeepers take me to another room where I meet with Cathy and Char again.

We sit at a table, until Mayor Smallwood and two other people enter the place. The Mayor congratulates us but both Char and I reply with bitter looks. 'Well, you should introduce to each other' he says with a small voice. The Mayor is a small man who's always wearing an annoyingly big and ugly smile, though it's not a fake one. I find him annoying though he is somehow okay actually.

'We did' I answer.

He widens his eyes. 'Very well. Cathy, the train will be here in five minutes. You should go with them now'.

'I know. I know'.

Behind the Mayor, there's another woman. She is tall, beautiful, with light blonde hair and blue-grey eyes. She looks young, but she must be in her twenties already, early twenties. She smiles to me when she sees me noticing her too. She hasn't yet spoken and most probably Mayor has already forgotte she is behind her. Cathy most probably doesn't see her either. 'Mayor...' I say. 'Who is her?' I point to the woman. His face lights up like a light-bulb when he remembers that she has been there the whole time. Both the woman and I find his face funny. But I do not let myself laugh or smile this time. It wouldn't look good.

'Well, Cathy will introduce her to you two in the train. You should go'.

Cathy takes us and woman and we go to the train. Comparing with everything I have seen, this train isn't something. In Capitol, there are greater, faster and bigger trains, but... I do not belong to the Capitol. I do not. I don't! We get in that train and it finally starts moving.

We go on faster than the wind blows!


	2. The Train

**Thank you so much for being here and reading this. It means a lot to me.**

** I think that it woul****d be pointless to make here a long introduction for this chapter. I really hope you enjoyed the first. So, I don't want to be long, neither I will, here's Mercy's second chapter! Enjoy!**

* * *

The train is uncomfortable, but isn't something I didn't expect.

As soon as it starts moving, Cathy Wescott takes me, Lola Fleming and the blonde woman to what seemed a living-room-like part of the train. A metal table is in the center of that train compartment. A big vase with two flowers in full bloom is on the table. There are also some plates, cutlery and glasses. We are going to have a meal. They prepare us for the Great Cutting, in which we will slay each other. Using a knife for steak is just like using a sword to cut somebody's leg, isn't it?

All four of us sit. Two people bring some big trays with many bigger plates in which there are a big fried chicken and salad around. I take one leg. I do not think I'm even able to eat now, but I manage to move my hand and eat, robotically though. Lola doesn't eat much too. Just by the way she looks, I can say she can live only with salads. The blonde woman seems to have the biggest apetite among us. I dislike that, but I also appreciate that she rises the mood, which is currently three feet underground.

'Dear Lord, I haven't introduced Lise yet' Cathy says, waking up from a trace made by the food. She smiles and points to the blonde woman. 'She's Lise Garnett. She is your mentor. Among the District Seven victors, she is the newest. She won the Games five years ago, at only fifteen years. She is District's pride and your greatest chance'.

'Sorry, I didn't know you' I say.

'It's okay. Hardly anyone remembers a victor after their glory year. Hardly people even care about victors that aren't from 1,2,3 or 4. Some are nice and unfortunate people to which the odds weren't really in their favor, but most victors are Careers, they volunteer, and they are professional killers-like' Lise replies. She gives me an encouraging smile, thinking I need it. I do not. Unlike Cathy, I do not think she will be our greatest chance, but since Lise has the beauty of resistance against the Capitol, she deserves my respect.

'How did you win?' Char asks.

'I hid until they killed each other. Fortunately, the muttations did the job with the Careers. It is hard to escape these creatures. After three days, I and the Careers only were left. They were killed and I won'.

'So, you have never killed anybody in the Games?'

'No'. She looks directly into my eyes before she finally answers. 'I think they are cursing that day when they left the mutts out'.

I raise one eyebrow. 'Do they?'.

Silence reigns for few seconds after that. Neither I nor Lise have anything else to say. I do no think we've started on the right foot, but I really needed to be sure of one thing: she is trustworthy! She is trustworthy when you want to go against the Capitol. I can't say if she'll be an ally or not, but I at least know I am not the only one who wants go against them.

Cathy finally breaks the silence when it starts to be awkward. 'So what strategy do you want to try? Of course, you will need one'.

'None' Char says with a loud and shaking voice. Then leaves. If I weren't standing next to her, I would believe any good theory, but not. I know she prepared her leave into 'her room' ever since we first sat at the table. I can't really read her and tell what is with her, but it's unholy and not okay. She isn't going to survive is she is confuse, in tears and sad. An open mind always helps when you are on the edge of glory and the edge of death.

'None' I repeat.

Cathy mutters something I can't understand then opens the TV. They aren't boxes-like things as I knew; they have evolved in holograms which spread on the whole wall like a projection. I knew they had plans to make it this way, but hardly I ever believe they'd succeed. The Capitol is both a bad and a brilliant place. I hardly can admit such things about that place all my hatred is focused on. On TV, there are different footages of Reapings from all Districts. 1 and 2 were already shown and we missed them. District 3 tributes are two girls. The two are Merra Whatever-her-last-name-is, who is somehow unnoticeable in spite of her chubby, tall and serious appearence, and Jordan McSeth, who is a petite, shy and has her long blonde hair beautifully braided. Sarah smiles just like she has already won the Games. The image changes to District Four, but none of the tributes make a good impression to me. Their names are Reed and Jacques, a girl and a boy. In District 5, there's a girl named Madison Kidd who starts crying on stage and falls devastated on the floor. I can tell she is faking everything only to make people interested in her. A drama queen might have chances in the Games, I suppose. It quickly changes and I wake up seeing myself and Char on the holographic screen. Unlike other tributes who have had different reactions, I and Char look stiff. Her line 'I've been sentenced to death' sounds even more powerful at TV. It cuts human flesh easily. That might be good. In District 8, besides a good-looking, blonde girl named Cassarah Baxton, there's a familliar face chosen. The name says simply: Al. He is one of the 'Wanted' ones in the whole Panem, a criminal searched by the law. Being in the age limit, he has been forced to volunteer. Al has been running around all districts last two years. A month ago, he was in 7 too. I've seen him too. People shall think what they want to think, but I know that he doesn't look like a criminal and, by his eyes, I can tell he's done nothing bad. Unfortunately, the Capitol is too blind to see the truth between all the fogs that surround it. On the other hand, I think they will enjoy having a so called 'professional criminal' in the arena together with some innocent kids. In 11, there's a guy named Richard Daniell, who's my age most probably. He stands tall and proud, though his eyes are full of sadness. Besides him, there's an unnoticeable boy whose name I probably can't even spell right. The parade of the Reapings ends with District 12. A young, black-haired, black-eyed beautiful girl, named Jemima Madden, stands next to a young boy, whose fate has been unblessed. His name is Rory Earl and he is only 12. I feel sorry for the poor boy, but I need to focus on who I am and who I am not going to die anytime soon.

'Have you thought about a strategy now that you've seen the other tributes?' Lise asks me.

'Alliances' I answer.

She laughs. 'Alliances are crucial, but they're not a strategy. Hardly you will win if you get some friends who will do the killings for you. Think about what can you do and what do you think the others can't. What are you good at, Jared?'

'Nothing special'. Lise sighs at my answer. 'Plenty of usual things, like the own hands'. Listening, she then takes some bites of her chicken and drinks some water. And that she stands, whisper some words I can't understand and leaves. I and Cathy are left there. I must confess that I almost forgot about her being there. Her presence is hardly felt sometimes. At least, she enjoyed the meal. I leave too soon.

There are a few hours until we will arrive in the Capitol and I need to prepare. I must be sure no one will recognise me there. Even though such a thing might stop the Games, it would never be a good thing for me to go back into Devil's hands. I am already close to that. I stare in a mirror at my appearence. I used to be used to mirrors but now I hardly understand what it is such a thing. Unfortunately, I still see short brown hair. No!

When I ran from the Capitol and arrived in 7, I changed a part of my appearence. I've changed my hair, dying it blonde and letting it grow. I've trained hard to develop muscles. I have cut with an knife and once with an axe the back of my hand so that there would be a big scar which had to cover the Devil's mark that I wear. It's the mark that makes me bound to those who lead this nation into darkness. The Snows. My father was Gaius Snow, the eldest son of Mortimer Marcus Snow, the actual Panem president, and the brother of Coriolanus Snow, ten years younger than my father. But I have no more a father, a grandfather and an uncle. Alexa's my family. And the three Snows are the creatures far under the limit of humanity. I've started to think that I've been offensing all devils by calling the Snows like that. I ran and that was the best decision of my existence.

Back to the present, I am in the 25th Hunger Games, the First Quarter Quell, a tribute for District Seven and I am going by the name Jared Cline. That is all I need to know now. I have got no strategy in the game, but I am going make some alliances. Right! My alliances will be with the boy from 12, Rory, Al, from 8, and possibly the girl from 12, Jemima, too. The drama-queen from 5 and Richard, from 11, seem pretty good choices too, but I need trustworthy people. I choose Rory only to protect him. I feel the need. And for Rory I also want to befriend Jemima Madden too. By his eyes, I know Al can be trustworthy and a good man. It's worth the shot, I suppose. The petite Jordan from 3 might be helpful but I can't risk to make to alliances with those from Careers' Districts. I will, of course, try to get Char on my side too.

By the time my thinking ends, a whistle is heard. We are in Capitol. Time passes very fast when you are about to die, doesn't it? I go back. Everybody else is already there. The doors of the train open and Capitol is changed from what I've known. It has indeed evolved but still has that ugliness that it always had. The Capitol is a crime scene, but no one realizes this.

* * *

**Thank you for reading this chapter. A premiere to my writings is that now I am releasing a playlist. This is a list of songs that help me write this story. Some of these choices might not surprise you, but they do help. So, I present you the INFINITIES PLAYLIST:**

**1. Fairytale Gone Bad by Sunrise Avenue**

**2. Wasting My Young Years by London Grammar**

**3. Follow by Crystal Fighters**

**4. Safe and Sound by Capital Cities**

**5. Who We Are by Imagine Dragons**

**6. Skyfall by Adele**

**7. Pompeii by Bastille**

**8. Demons by Imagine Dragons**

**9. Brave by Sara Bareilles**

**10. Hey Brother by Avicii**

**11. Recovery by James Arthur**

**12. Time-Bomb by All Time Low**

**13. Stand by Me by John Lennon**

**14. Still by Daughter**

**15. Gods and Monsters by Lana del Rey.**

**Well, you should listen to these songs too because they're cool. Thank you again for reading this fanfic. Do not forget to leave a review and tell me what did you think about this chapter!**


	3. The Ride

**Hey. What's up? Thank you very much again that you've read this fanfiction and that you support it. Thank you alll for everything. ****So, as you know, I've also posted the Infinities Playlist the last chapter. What did you think? I really hope you liked it. There was no certain order, but within their chaotic non-order, those songs represent Infinities.**

**Now, please enjoy the third chapter!**

* * *

The Capitol is as overwhelming as I left it years ago. But I must admit it improved. It's almost intimidating, but I know who I am dealing with, thus I am leaving my guard down.

I do not know much about what's happening off-screen, but I do not think that it's really in the plan to cover the faces and send the tributes directly into the building named The Training Center. It's where we are going to live for the next two weeks, I think, in which we will prepare, phisically, mentally and possibly emotionally for what's going to be in the actual arena. Well, an arena is the whole event of the Hunger Games. My guess is that it's even worse that I am competing in a Quarter Quell. When we get out of the train, in a private area most probably, Cathy suggests to take some caps and hats and go incognito to the Training Center. She takes the lead being the only one without a cover. I honestly think that if she doesn't go undercover too, people will see her and clearly make the connection that she's with me and with Char. I suppose Lise should be the one without a cover as I can hardly believe the Capitol knows that she is going to be our mentor. She wasn't the first victor in District Seven, most probably she'll not be the last also. The circumastances make me believe that they're not even considering her a real mentor since the mutts did the ugly job in her Games. Anyway, Cathy with her specific escort clothes can't make herself unseen. However, it's about her pride too, I've come to believe. How can someone like her go incognito? She thinks she's made to make an impression with appearences. That's the thing with all escorts and somehow I thought Cathy was different and she wasn't only a stupid shell of a woman only. She had her depths and an unusual smartness and cunning for an escort some times. I know many things about pride, mostly because I am one myself though I have come to repulse this whole thing.

The Training Center building is big. Somebody else would think that it is the biggest building in the Capitol, but I know it is not. The Snow residence is even great and bigger and uglier and as demonic as the Devils like the Snows could make it. It is weird since everytime I name the Snows Devils I feel some kind of guilt; they're my blood and I am their blood. But I will grow to be known for my doings and myself and not for my blood. I hate my blood and I am so happy that I hate it. People hardly notice a resemblace between me and the Snows, though I broke so many mirrors when I saw my father's eyes in mine. I've come so close to them, thus I even think about them a lot more than I did when I was in 7. Finally, my mind slips back to where it should be. The Training Center is right in front of my face and we are entering it after two minutes in which Cathy talks with the driver of the car that brought us here. It's an old vehicule, not like the current Maitre Company's Fly models that are around the Capitol now-days. We enter and the elevator takes us to the seventh floor. Each district has a floor, within its own number. We are from 7 and we stay at the seventh floor. It may sound logic.

I am sent to a room that seems to be mine for now. It is quite simple and quite luxurious and complicated at the same time. There's a big bed on which five people can fit, two nightstands big as some tables, a gallery of glass screens instead of walls. It has 13 different photograph that I can choose. I see them all: one for each district and the thirteenth is for the Capitol. I pass quickly over the first five districts. District 6 photo has some railway tracks which end at the horizon line. It's a beautiful view, but I pass. I stop at District 7's photo and use it. It's my home and it's nothing more beautiful than it. The photograph has a forest I know well. I have the sensation that the air is now different, that I almost feel like there. I chase away the thought because I am in the Capitol and I can't let the guard down, not even for a second. A second of weakness is death those times.

Somebody knocks at the door and takes me back to the living room of the apartment. Cathy mentions that it's the time to eat. I can't say which meal is it since it's past midnight already. They want us to gobble up like we haven't seen food before. I bet 1,2,3 and 4 do not really have this night meal. They know what food is. I wonder if 11 and 12 have got three of these meals, but I guess they can always have more since they're in Capitol and the Capitol surely cares about them. Sarcasm is truth in a mean packing, but it's truth and that means a lot.

This meal means salmon with a lemon salad. The salmon is pink and looks good enough for me to take some bites. It's nothing really special however it's food and that's a good thing. I've never liked the lemon salad. It's something I can't even describe. It tastes really good, but you get such a bitter feeling after eating it. It's made up by lemon slices and lemon juice and leafy plants. It's even worse when you taste with rose petals. I finish the salmon then try to leave, but Cathy senses the change in me.

'Why aren't you trying the salad?'

'I know it. I've eaten before It isn't for me' I spill out. After a moment, I regret. I remember something about it, something will most probably make Cathy question my origins and myself. I shouldn't have replied, but it is done. I just hope she doesn't notice, but hardly I can believe she's that dumb. Cathy is everything but dumb, though she has to play it sometimes.

'And I thought it's only made in the Capitol, for Capitol's citizen. I didn't know District 7 has it too' she says. Her words cut my flesh and burn my eyes. My legs can't resist anymore and I will most probably fall on the floor next seconds. I am not good if I make so many mistakes and give people so many reasons to question me. 'You're lucky. Not even 1 or 2 have it. I know because I've been there for a while'.

'I heard that too, about the salad. But I haven't known that there's in our district too' Lise adds.

'That's because my grandmother and I make it for ourselves. We are lucky to have a secret garden with different leafy plants' I lie. The words are like some silent cries for me. That's I lie I wouldn't have got to tell if I was smart enough. 'My grandmother, Alexa, has gone many times to the Capitol, in her younger years, and that's from where she knows it and the recipe and everything'.

'That's lucky of you' Cathy says and raises one eyebrow. She must have figured out that it was a lie. All of sudden, Char rises from her chair and runs to her room. My legs do not feel heavy anymore as both Lise and Cathy do not pressure me anymore with truths and lies. I leave the living room too. Cathy must have rushed to see what is with Char. I worry not since I know her and I know there can't be anything really bad happening with her. I fall asleep almost instantly.

I dream of home. But it's not a dream. It is a nightmare of home, referring to the Snow residence. But that isn't my home anymore. It is nothing to me now. That place may have had a meaning to me before, but not now. Alexa is my family, my grandmother, my blood. District Seven is my home, is the place where I belong and where I want, have to and need to stay and live. I am sure that bloody residence of all monsters, devils and orangutans hasn't changed from five years ago, however I believe that I won't really live to see it again. The Games are tough and even if I do not hope to win, I hope to stay alive as much as possible. Somehow, I am waiting for my death since when they'll get my body out of the arena, there is no way they won't see the mark on the back of my hand, thus they'll realize who I am and what's my real name. That will collapse my father's world and make uncle Coriolanus the first in line to become the leader, the president of Panem. The current president Snow made a law in which only the son with an alive, healthy 'heir' will get to be the next president of the nation. My mother died giving birth to me, thus my life is the thing that makes my father the first in line to the greatest title the nation has. From the nightmare I only wake when I hear a knock at the door, announcing me to wake up because it's dawn already and it's a big day. It's the Tributes' Parade Day. It's the day I must smile. The bets on me do not grow in the trees that the Capitol does not have.

At breakfast we have some kind of omelettes, but I can't care less about them. Char is nowhere to be found. The cameras on the hall show us that she hasn't left the appartment. They have checked her room and she isn't there. There are no windows without a force field, thus there's no way she could have jumped. And she isn't an idiot. We are at the seventh floor! She must still be here in the appartment somewhere. I go myself in her room to check. Another look would not hurt anyone. Her room is indeed empty. The bed isn't even touched. Her shoes are in a corner of the room, thrown in a rush most probably. The hair clips she had in her hair are on the night stand. She isn't gone anywhere and I know that because of how the room is left. I enter the bathroom. It's untouched room, except that the water is running inside the shower cabin. The curtains are on but I see the silhouette of a body in it. It's standing on its floor, cuddled. By the silhouette, I know it's her. I open a little bit and she her. She's crying. I try to call everybody else, but she notices that on time and mutters a 'Don't!'. I stop the water running and try to talk to her, but it's rather impossible. I take her and carry her out of the cabin, putting her carefully on the carpet, on the floor. I sit next to her. She rests her head on my shoulder and sighs.

'Are you okay?' I ask but she doesn't answer. 'Do you want me to bring you so dry clothes? Those on you are really wet'. This time she makes a small sign with her head, agreeing. I bring her a blouse and a skirt I found in her wardrobe. It is kind of weird that the Capitol know exactly our sizes though we ourselves do not really know them. The clothes fit perfectly. I leave for few minutes, leaving her to change, which she does. Then I go back and we sit again in the same place. Her other clothes sit thrown away in the other side of the bathroom. 'How long have you been in the shower?'

'After the meal last night, I wanted to take a shower and that's it' she answers with a small voice. The tears have stopped falling but she's still unstable. I must have care not to say anything bad. I widen my eyes but she doesn't notice. 'I am not feeling really well'. She sighs.

'Are you sure you do not want me to call somebody else?' She turns her eyes to me and looks directly into my eyes. She may not be feeling well, but she's totally stable, strong and confident. Her eyes are accusing and they tell me everything. The 'No' is huge and devastating. Realizing that I understand the message, she rests her head again on my shoulder. There's already a lot of pressure on my shoulders, but her head is not really heavy. Hopefully, I do not really have to support her everywhere in the Games. 'Well, please do not think I am weak, Jared, because I am not, mentally or emotionally. On the other hand, I am weak physically'. I wonder how does this mean.

'Can you bring me some water?' she asks. I go and when I come back I find her leaned over the toilet, after vomitting. I help her clean herself and steady her on the carpet with her back rested against the wall. She seems to be thinking. She coughs. 'On the upper shelf, there is a small pill bottle. Can you get me it? Please' she adds between her coughs. When she gets her hands on the pills, her eyes sparkle things that seem like relief and happiness. She takes one pill and sighs, breathing relieved. 'These pills are for sickness'.

I raise one eyebrow. 'What kind of sickness?'

She laughs. Char truly has got a beautiful smile, though I haven't seen her smiling a lot. I reply a smile too I do not know what she has found funny about my question, but I should be grateful that she still knows how to be happy and how to laugh. Her laugh soon fades as seriousness invades her face. She choses her words for an answer. 'Morning sickness' she finally answers. My mind slips to a certain direction: isn't the morning sickness... She hears my thoughts and quickly answers 'Yes'. Her words are screamed and cried rather than just said.

I hug her, saddened after a thought I just had. 'You know they will not let you out of the Games even if you are like this. They wouldn't let President Mortimer Snow's grandchild out of the Games if he was to be in. I am pretty sure of that, even though he's of their stupid royal blood' I whisper to her ear. It wasn't an encouragement but neither I wanted to discourage her. It was the ugly truth, the one that might make her not give up or something. She can pass through this and I can make sure I make her a clean way up to the final, though I can't believe I have to carry someone else on my back. Sometimes, I have such a good heart.

'How can you know?'

'I do because I am that runaway prince' I tell her. I show her the back of my hand. The Snow mark is there though it's covered by a long scar made with a knife. She believes it wholeheartedly when she see it. 'Now, Char, we're even on secrets. You have my secret and I have yours'. I smile. She smiles back, confident and understanding. I know I can trust her and I've won her trust with my own secret.

'I won't ask you any useless question because now I realize that Jared's derived from John and the scar is authentic, I can tell'. She takes a more serious look as she speaks. 'I want to make a pact with you, John. If you ever tell my secret, I will tell yours. If I ever tell your secret, you tell mine. The rule will not apply if permission is given, if the thing is discussed. Are you fine with this?' Her proposal surprises me a little bit, but I understand her reasons and somehow I agree, but it's different. The thing is that if my secret is revealed many of my deeds will be in vain and, most importantly, they'll get satisfaction which is the worst possible thing. She reads my thoughts again. 'I know they have different levels of consequences if they're told, but I need to be sure that you won't tell. My secret would only affect me, unlike yours who can change the fate of the whole nation, however I need you to take this risk, John'.

I breath once. 'Unfortunately, everything would be useless if you keep calling me John, though I fancy being called this way. I must confess that my father had great ideas about baby names. Anyway, fortunately, I accept' I reply. She gives me a smile. 'So, can you stand and go with me to see what tortunes are we going to have to endure today, getting prepared for the parade?'

She agrees. And we go together to the living room. Lise is sitting on a chair drinking what seems to be coffee. She finds amusing the way Cathy is hyperventilating in worries. When she sees us, Lise gives us a small smile, then she points to the other woman. Cathy turns to us as we enter and, though she breathes relieved, she runs to us with an unbelievable speed. 'Dear Lord, where were you two? We should have arrived to the Stylists' studios!' Cathy says. We raise our shoulders, playing the fools' roles. 'It doesn't matter. Let's go'. She takes us to that 'Stylists' Studios', which is at the basement of the Training Center.

Char's stylist is Trypho and her assistant is Kaan. Trypho is a young woman, hardly she has passed the age of 25. Her hair is scarlet, a beautiful kind of red and her eyes are light brown. She isn't very eccentric with her look. Unlike the Capitol citizens that need so much make-up because they're clearly too ugly without it on, unlike those, Trypho looks perfect because she isn't hidden under a thick wall of powder and colors. Kaan is even younger. He's probably the same age as me and Char. He has curly black hair and grey eyes. There is a black thin line outlining his eyes and he has one of his ear pierced by five earrings. I hear they call these 'piercings'. Except these details, his clothing is rather simple and not eccentric at all. My stylist is Olaf and his assistant is Tiamat. He's a man in his thirties. He's a typical Capitol-man: blue hair, blue lipstick. Unbelievably, he isn't that bad looking as expected, thinking of all the blue. Tiamat is a black woman, in her fourties. She has black hair with golden highlights. Her lips and her eyes are painted with golden make-up. Her eyes were supposed to be black, but they aren't. I do not even know what that color is. Cathy talks intensively with them while I make my study of them.

'You've got the better stylists' I whisper to Char.

'The odds are in my favor' she replies. And we both laugh.

Cathy and the stylists come to talk to us too. The first job they have to do is get us prepared for the Tribute Parade. They've done the outfits already but Cathy begged them not to dress us in trees like the District Seven stylists always do. They think a little bit and finally decide that if they rip off some parts of the outfits we will not look exactly like some trees. That's decided! They show us the 'before' outfits and ask us to come in an hour to see the 'after' version. That's what we do. At first, the outfits are creepy. They are almost the same, two robes in the two District 7 forever colors: leaf-green and tree trunk-maroon. Thankfully, Cathy knows how to look good and how not to look good. After that fateful hour, the outfits are not really changed. The robes are almost the same as they've been before. I wonder what they did in that hour. Cathy is not really satisfied either but thanks Trypho and Olaf. Then she takes us to the 'Chariot Center'. We are, thankfully, not late. There's still another half of an hour until the real party starts.

I look around for the tributes that I know. Jordan McSeth, from 3, has her hair braided again, a hairstyle that truly represents her, and she's dressed in a strange grey outfit which looks like an electrical panel with colored wires. District Four have their tributes costumed in fishes. It creeps me out. The dramatic Madison from 5 is dressed in a golden-silver costume made up by a vest and some shorts and lots of fringes which, I think, should represent the electronic waves. District 9 has Roryd and another guy. They're both costumed in peasant outfits, but with some updates to the current times. Jemima and Rory's costumes are black. He wears a leather costume, vest and shorts, and she wears a summer dress with elbow-lengh sleeves and knee-lengh skirt. They are somehow elegant, though they are to represent 12's mining and coals. Cassarah and Al from District 8, which is the district of textiles, are, unbelievabely, not dressed like clowns. That's how District 8 dresses its tributes. Their styles, which clearly have brain, made for the two some outfits that make the tributes look like from their from the era of kings and queens and kingdoms and knights. Cassarah has a beige gown. She must also wear a corset under her dress because her chest is risen unnaturally for this times. She's full of accessories: a tiara, a necklace, two bracelets, big earrings. Al has a loose shirt, a dark-brown jacket over and a livery collar, and usual leather pants. I must admit that the days when such outfits were worn were much better than the now-days mad era.

When Char seems the tributes from 8, she stops. Her eyes look directly to the two. Her breathing accelerates and she nearly falls. I catch her and she turns to me saying: 'Is that him?' She looks to him, breathing hardly. 'Tell me, is that really him? How that he's here? Wasn't he supposed to be running?' She steadies herself on her own legs and calms her breathing. Fear is what overwhelms her, though she tries hardly not to paralyze and stop breathing right in this fated moment.

'Yeah, that's Al. He was caught in 8 and forced to volunteer' I answer. I look at her and her eyes tell me how much she fears now, though, I think, it's not a paralyzing fear for the own life, but more like the fear of disappointing and being a burden. I can't understand. 'He's been in 7 too about a month ago'.

'I know that. I've met him then. It was right after Colin's death, you know'. She is shaking. 'Colin and I had a beautiful night. We were truly in love. But the next day Colin took his own life and I was devastated. Al and I happened to meet in a bar'. Char starts crying. She lowers her head and shifts her weight. After a sigh, she continues 'I had to free and express all anger I had within myself. Actually, it the best thing I had ever done'.

'Is he the father of the child?'

'I don't know and I do not want to know. This child might not even reach two months and I may be dead already a week from now. Do you think that we should put this weight on his shoulders uselessly. There are three posibilities and none is happy. The first is in which he lives and I die and there's no child; the second in which I live and he dies, thus I'll have nobody to tell; the third is, in my opinion, the most probably and the happiest: we all three go to heaven. Anyway, it might not even be his. It might be Colin's. I can't tell'. Al turns his head. He sees her. But I can't tell his reaction because everything is stopped by Shaun Templesmith's voice. He announces that the tributes should prepare and get in the chariots. We do so.

'Hold tight, smile and don't get freaked out' Olaf screams to us before we leave. I widen my eyes at his words. We leave. Our chariot follows closely the District Six's. Our route is going through a long way until a round finish, right in front of a stage where president Snow will have a speech. Rose petals are scattered across the road. This is such a waste. As we are told, we smile. The chariot runs pretty fast and probably if we don't hold tight enough we'd fall. That's be funny and ridiculous! Anyway, now I must smile. The bets on me do not grow in the tree the Capitol doesn't have! Our robes flutter in the wind. After some moments, they evaporate in the air. Char's robe's turned into a beautiful long emerald green dress, with diamonds and sparkly crystals all over it. Mine is now a suit-like costume with short sleeves, a beautiful dark brown. The change is total. I didn't really expect something like that. But it was a whole hour, thus I guess that they really did that. It's obvious that we have taken everybody's attention. Isn't this a good thing? Hopefully, they will watch at our clothes and not at our faces. Right now, the hardest thing is taking place. Grandfather will have a speech in front of me and I mustn't let him recognize him. That's crucial.

'Welcome to the 25th Hunger Games. And may the odds be always in your favor. As you already know, this is the First Quarter Quell, the 25th anniversary of The Hunges Games. This year is special. To make it as special as possible, this time we've broken the rule which says that the tributes must be a male and a female between the ages of 12 and 18. But except this rule change, we also have the nation's dear friend, Silvanus Charles, as the Head Gamemaker and I will personally overview the Games' Grandfather starts. 'We are remembering the fast and looking up to the future. By remembering the past, I mean remembering what has been until now, the rebellions, the actions that lead to the Hunger Games. And by looking up to the future, I mean realising our true leaders and where do we really belong. All the Districts 1,2,3, up to District 12 and the Capitol itself must become unite because through The Hunger Games and through every of our deed we all try to lead Panem to a greater era. I repeat: Welcome to the 25th Hunger Games and may the odds be always in your favor'. Mortimer Snow steps down from the stage and looks around. He passes with his red eyes over the tributes. I do not think he sees me.

The ceremony ends after that. We take the elevator, going back to our apartment in the Training Center. I hear somebody saying 'Hold the elevator' and I know it is his voice, but we don't hold it. It wouldn't be okay. As for now, the play continues and I know it will be a long way until the very end, even if the end means death or not.


End file.
